Work Ethics
by mockingwords
Summary: Based on a prompt from anon on Tumblr: Steve and Natasha training the new team like a couple
1. Chapter 1

The new Avengers training facility was state of the art. It had everything the team needed and more. Located on the outskirts of Washington, DC, it was close enough to get there in the nick of time if needed to but also far enough to keep from the spying eyes of the media. Courtesy of Tony Stark, Pepper and Stark Industries, the facility had nothing short of the latest gadgets and toys. They even had a chef named Mario, something the Black Widow could never get over. She even insisted that Mario should be wearing what the video game Mario wore. Although her request was never granted thanks to Captain America who thought it would be ridiculous. It especially had a killer view. Director Nick Fury enjoyed the view very much. He stood on the rooftop, looking down at the training yard. The place was bustling with excitement. Below him, new recruits scurried around, looking for their respective places in line. Their faces were brimming with excitement, although some looked like they were about to faint from the anxiety of day one. The new Avengers, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, War Machine and Falcon were far from being the only new additions to his plans of rebuilding a new and improved version of S.H.I.E.L.D. He needed agents who were reliable, whom he could trust. After the Winter Soldier and Hydra's revealing, he wasn't sure he could trust anymore. But Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff proved that they were worth his trust. Good agents are hard to find, so he'll be having the two senior avengers to train them. The two were certainly an odd pair when he first heard about their relationship. They were complete opposites after all. He's a patriotic national hero who couldn't lie to save his life and the other was a wanted assassin whose lies couldn't be told from the truth. It was a messy picture when the media found out, but he could tell those two couldn't be better partners. They are working as co-leaders and while he usually wouldn't approve of interoffice romances, he decided long ago that he approved of this one.

* * *

"Rogers, it's laundry day and it sure as hell isn't my turn to do it." Natasha whispered, discreetly nudging the blonde on her left with her elbow. "Nat, you never do the laundry. The last time you did, you turned every single white shirt I've ever owned varying shades of pink." He sighed but his eyes glinted with laughter. "Be quiet. We're surrounded by agents. It wouldn't do my reputation much good if they had something like this to gossip about." She grunted, crossing her arms. As the co-leaders of the new team, they had been asked by Fury to beat these new recruits into tip top shape. No easy feat of course, but Steve, being _Steve_ , accepted it without a second thought. She looked at the bunch of rascals, scrawny and excited.

"You know they're not exactly the _fittest_ bunch." She commented nonchalantly. Steve shrugged, "Well they passed the interview with Fury, that's got to mean something." Nick Fury himself had interviewed all these candidates, deeming them worthy of defending the country's national security and taking down what's left of the Hydra agents still in pockets around the world.

"Did you take out the trash?" Natasha asked.

"Ahem." Agent Maria Hill cleared her throat, informing them of her presence, "You two talk like an old married couple. You're even talking about taking out the trash in front of the new agents." She laughed.

"We _are_ married and the talk's got to be done somewhere." Natasha pointed out. Steve nudged her gently, earning a pout from the redhead, "Nat. We'll talk about this later. By the way, I did take out the trash. Maria, how does Fury want us to handle these kids?"

"However you want Captain. You're in charge." She smiled, leaving the two alone with a field full of excited recruits of both genders and varying ages. The new Avengers stood in the front lines.

Natasha whistled and called them all to attention, "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D ladies. Twenty laps around the field. No excuses. Now hop to it, boys and girls."

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me." Natasha sighed as she flipped another recruit. The scrawny 5'7 brunette was no match for her. He got up and the hand-to-hand combat continued for about 20 seconds before she got him in a headlock and he surrendered. Steve Rogers walked in to see an agent on the floor and his partner muttering in extensively colourful language. "Captain," the agent, his name was Henry, greeted before walking out of the room. "Language Nat," Steve raised his eyebrows, "Also, you're going to kill one of them one of these days. I'm not sure Fury would appreciate that." Steve grinned. Her mouth curled into a smirk, "Well Rogers, I believe you're far too lenient on them for a soldier."

It's been about a week since they've started training the new recruits and Natasha was not too happy with their minimal progress. Hence, she's always on the edge after every training session, even if it's been less than a week.

"I was doing it to save America." He said; a look of protest on his face as he pulled her close.

"I know you _are_." She smiled, giving him a lingering kiss.

"You know if Fury sees this he's going to kill us personally." Steve murmured. "It's not like I'm screwing you in the training room Rogers." She grinned before leaving the room as well, "I expect these kids to have done at least fifty laps by the time I'm back."

"Yes ma'am." He chuckled.

* * *

It was hell doing paperwork for missions. It was one thing to clean up after the rest of the team; it was another doing all the work for them. Steve sighed as he flipped through another stack of mission reports when the sliding doors to his office opened.

"Nat, is that _my_ shirt?" Steve asked, cocking his head at his wife. She was wearing his favourite blue long sleeved shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, over a pair of short shorts. It wasn't shocking because she was wearing his clothes, but it _was_ shocking that she was wearing his clothes _here_ , in the training facility. It wasn't something that happened every day after all. "Hey, I was sweaty and I needed a shower. Plus, everyone else is out in the field. They're training with Fury."

"Fair enough." He sighed again as he turned his attention back to his work. "Pay attention to your wife Rogers. Otherwise, some other guy might just sweep her off her feet." She nodded nonchalantly as she perched herself on his desk. "We both know that's not going to happen. Reasons because one, no guy here would dare hit on you. Two, you'd kill them if they did and three –" Steve leant forward, playing with the ring on her left hand, "You're mine."

"You're cheesy." She smirked, kissing him. He kissed her back, "Fury's going to kill us."


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of the front door opening woke him. Steve pulled the covers over his head. He couldn't care less about whoever was at the door at the moment. He'd just gotten back from a mission less than three hours ago, bruised and exhausted. It wasn't anything the serum couldn't handle, but Lord forbid, he would get out of bed before hell freezes over. After all, there was only one person who had the key anyway, and that was Natasha.

Steve tossed and felt the opposite side of the bed dip as the familiar weight settled underneath the covers, "Nat?"

"Hey…" Steve sat up and looked at the redhead, "Nat are you okay?" The spy groaned softly in response. He immediately pulled her closer and felt her forehead for a temperature, "Nat. You're having a fever." She was literally shaking despite being under the covers.

"I'm not sick." She muttered, burying closer to him, "I don't get sick…" Steve looked worriedly at her; she was as stubborn as they come. She would never listen. Steve set her head gently on the pillow and got up to get her some water and medicine. She must've been exhausted. After he'd left for almost a week for his last mission, she was the one who was in charge of training the new recruits. He knew her better than anyone else. Despite being harsh on them, she was just as harsh on herself. If she got them to run laps under the sun, she would run with them, which was probably how she got sick in the first place. He looked at his sleeping wife, lifting her up gently, "Nat, hey. Get up for me for a minute would you? We're going to get some fluids for you." She mumbled incoherently in response. "That's a good girl." He popped the pill into her mouth and she swallowed it obediently.

"Thank you. Now get some rest." He kissed her gently as he set a wet cloth on her head.

He spent the rest of the night looking after her as she slept, hoping that she would be better by morning.

* * *

Natasha groaned, her head was pounding and the headache showed absolutely no signs of letting up. Her throat was scratchy and her joints ached. Turning to the other side, she had to blink a few times before her vision cleared up and she noticed Steve sleeping beside her. He was curled up beside her, his sketchpad tucked under his arm. She gently pulled it out of his grasp and flipped through it. There were so many drawings he'd added since she'd last opened it barely a few months ago. She flipped to the most recent one. It was a drawing of her, all curled up under the sheets. It must've been from last night. Steve was no doubt the perfect guy. He could sketch as well as any Picasso, he was kind, he was caring and he had a heart of gold. His patriotism was rivalled to none and he took care of her the way no one else has ever been able to do before. She honestly felt like she didn't deserve him at all. She was the complete opposite of him. She served the KGB, killing numerous amounts of people, watching them die in cold blood. She wasn't kind, nor was she the most caring. She hadn't had anything to lose until Steve came along. Clint could take care of himself, being the expert marksman he is. Their partnership was the only solid bond she had. But what she had with Steve was different. He was more than just a partner, he was someone she loved and she would be lost without him. For as long as she could remember, she was trained not to feel, to keep the emotions intact. But now she had something to lose. She had something she absolutely couldn't live without. Tracing her finger over the sketched lines, she smiled to herself as she looked at the sleeping Steve. She reached out and pushed his blonde hair out of his eyes. Slowly he opened his eyes, "Nat?"

She smiled gently, "Hi." Her voice was hoarse from all the yelling she'd done the previous day. "Are you okay? Are you still feeling ill?" She shook her head and burrowed into his arms, relishing the feeling of his warmth around her. "I'm okay."

"You had me so worried last night. You never get sick." He sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head. It was something he usually did when he was stressed, that much she noticed, "I'm sorry. I should take better care of myself next time."

"Your voice is a bit off. Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, his eyebrows knitted into a frown. "I suppose the flu bug's got me." she croaked, much to her chagrin. Steve looked at her with concern, "Should I get Bruce to get you checked out?"

"No, I'm fine Steve." Natasha shook her head. Steve worried more than a sinner in church. Coughing, she got up to brush her teeth and get ready for the day. Steve looked at her, bewildered as she wandered off to brush her teeth, "You're not planning to go in today are you?" Natasha rolled her eyes, "Of course I am. Who else is going to train those kids? I'm proud to say they've achieved more than I thought they would this past week."

"You haven't even fully recovered!"

"I'm fine Rogers, I promise. It's nothing I can't handle. I can take care of myself." She said, her tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

* * *

"Have you heard? Agent Romanoff is sick." Alice asked.

Henry Burns looked up from his phone screen. It's been less than a month since Henry had joined S.H.I.E.L.D with high hopes of being an agent. Now that his fellow recruits were no longer as terrified as they were a few weeks ago, they often indulged in more than their fair share of office gossip. "Is she now? Who knew the Black Widow would be able to fall sick." Alice shrugged, settling down in the chair opposite him. The upstairs communal area was quiet this early in the morning, the rest of the teams still asleep. "Captain Rogers is apparently pretty peeved at her for not taking the day off."

"He _is_ the husband after all," Henry noted. "What wouldn't I give to have a guy like him?" Alice sighed, lost in her own world, "He's charming, gracious and not to mention hot to the boot. He even holds the door for people! Whoever said chivalry was dead?"

"Old people," Henry replied casually. Alice was his partner and he would trust her with a lot of things, but listening to her fawn over their commanding officer's husband was not something he wanted to spend his morning doing.

Alice grinned, "Lighten up Henry. We all know you think she's hot."

"Agent Romanoff." Henry stood up quickly, acknowledging the senior agent at the door. She wasn't dressed in her uniform like she normally was, but instead, she wore a fitting navy tank top with a brown jacket and a pair of jeans. Alice's eyes widened at the sight of the Black Widow, "Agent Romanoff."

The senior officer merely nodded before heading towards the adjoining offices. Alice plonked down onto her chair when she left, a sigh of relief leaving her, "Oh my God for a minute there I thought she heard me fawning over her husband."

"It's not the first time." Henry sighed, "But she _is_ pretty hot."


	3. Chapter 3

_They had argued some more before she left the house. Natasha sighed, the conversations replaying in her head as she navigated her way through the six a.m. city traffic in the Corvette._

 _Steve looked at her, bewildered as she wandered off to brush her teeth, "You're not planning to go in today are you?" Natasha rolled her eyes, "Of course I am. Who else is going to train those kids? I'm proud to say they've achieved more than I thought they would this past week."_

 _"You haven't even fully recovered!"_

 _"I'm fine Rogers, I promise. It's nothing I can't handle. I can take care of myself." She said, her tone of voice leaving no room for argument._

 _But Steve was as stubborn as she was, and obviously used to being in charge of the situation. They were both leaders, which only proved to make things more difficult._

 _"Just take the day off to recover; I'll handle the training with Sam."_

 _"Stop babying me Rogers, I've been through worse." She said, ignoring his protests, "It's just a cold."_

 _She then pulled on her jacket and left before he could say another word. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened just thinking about it. She could take care of herself, she always had. Why should things be any different now?_

 _When she reached the training facility, the sun was still rising lazily among the lush green trees. It was far too lovely a day to spend it inside, but she had paperwork to do and recruits to train._

* * *

"Attention to all recruits, I want you all to be at the field in five minutes. Every half a minute you are late, its twenty push-ups. Your time starts now."

Henry quickly got up from the couch, with Alice trailing dutifully behind him. She was clearly quite done with their two seniors calling them at just a moment's notice. He broke into a jog, reaching the field, thankfully a minute early. The sun was up bright and early; despite it being only half past eight.

 _Isn't it perhaps too early for this?_

Surely the two senior Avengers could be doing something else on this exquisite morning?

The Black Widow wasn't in the best mood today, and he could tell it was probably because she wasn't feeling the best either. The Captain stood behind her, not in uniform, but dressed in a SHIELD issued t-shirt and a pair of joggers; it seems like he would be taking part in their training today. There was something off about the two today; the pair seemed to stand a few good feet away from each other, a noticeable gap in between. Henry wondered if it was just a lover's quarrel.

A few of the recruits ran in several minutes late, earning themselves a kill-worthy glare from Agent Romanoff and tens of push-ups to complete. Among the crowd was Jordan Knight, the weakest of the bunch. A few people snickered when they saw him struggling to go past fifteen push-ups, causing the silent tension to crackle almost literally in the air.

"His surname might be Knight but he sure doesn't look like any knight."

"Does he even belong in SHIELD?"

"He'll never make it through the training."

Henry's unease grew as he heard the murmured talking. His gaze met with Agent Romanoff's and she looked positively calm despite the situation. As expected, the mask didn't come off and the Captain was first to snap. If there was anything he hated most, it was bullies, or so Henry had heard.

"You think this is funny?" Their commanding officer asked. The snickering and murmurs stopped immediately, leaving the only audible sound being the grunts and pants from those on the ground.

"I will not tolerate this type of behaviour, especially among your own teammates."

Agent Romanoff kept quiet, obviously not thinking about intervening. She seemed to know her husband well enough not to stop him.

"Have you learnt nothing from your time here? You are agents, but you are also first and foremost comrades. When you walk out onto that battlefield, you will either die trying alone or die trying as a team. You think bullying him is cool? Then you have more to learn than I initially thought," Captain Rogers said, his gaze enough to put anyone six feet underground; and right now, Henry wanted to be anywhere but here. He was no bully, but this was some insane tension.

"Since you are a _team_ , you will see it fit to carry out your punishments together." The Captain crossed his arms before speaking calmly, "Twenty laps around the field. Anything less and you will be running double."

Henry stood quietly in position, hands behind his back. If it were any other day, there would've been groans coming from the squad of recruits; today, they knew well enough not to mess with the Captain.

"Move out."

Their other commanding officer walked off the track towards the comfort of the bleachers and then they took off running.

* * *

Steve was being harsh and oh boy did she know it. He was never one to take it out on the recruits, but the bullying definitely rubbed him in the wrong way. Natasha loved him and she couldn't have been prouder that he was the man he is; stepping in to stop the kids because he knew what it was like to be at the receiving end. She wanted to tell him that she loved him so badly and whatever the hell they were mad about this time wasn't important anymore. The only thing keeping her from it was a promise she had made to him, the only promise she had decided she would never break. Before they had gotten married, back when they were dating, fight after fight would ensue on and off the battlefield. At home, they'd be arguing over why whatever it was wasn't the most logical thing to do, and on the battlefield they'd be talking everyone else's' ears off on the intercoms bickering about some stupid mistake the other person had made and almost risked their lives for it. Finally when they both had had enough, they had decided not to bring in their personal lives into work anymore; late, but a logical decision. It was hard at first, resisting the urges to scream at the other for risking their lives or the mission for that matter, but they slowly adjusted to it. Now, she was more than tempted to break that promise.

She watched from the side lines as the fifty recruits and Steve ran in the sweltering heat, sweat drenching through their t-shirts. As expected, her soldier was leading the pack. She let out a cough, trying to keep her scratchy throat under control. Thankfully, Steve would never bring this up while they were at work. She glanced away from her reports to see him pause before turning his gaze on her. He looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it and continued his run. It felt really odd to not be able to talk to him as comfortably as they normally did. She didn't like that feeling; she didn't like it at all. It was hell and she'd certainly been through much worse.

* * *

Shooting practice took up most of their time that day, and it was nothing new to her anymore. Steve hardly interfered during her teachings; after all, she was the main shooter here. Steve preferred hand-to-hand combat while she enjoyed keeping as far a distance as she could. It would be quite a challenge for her to take on a 250lb man close range.

"Today's target distance is 70 metres." She announced as the agents poured into the shooting range. It was state of the art, courtesy of Stark Industries technology; equipped with holograms, targets, military grade weaponry and everything a soldier could want, have and more.

They all stood back as she grabbed a Glock 26, her preferred choice of weapon, and swung it around butt side up to slide in a magazine, "You've all done this before so I won't waste any time on the basics. Keep your stance firm, feet slightly apart. The name of the game is simple, aim and shoot."

She turned back to face the target, took aim and shot the gun; hitting a bullseye without much effort, "When you get the hang of shooting a stationary target, we'll move on to moving targets. Get into position."

She stood at the side while the recruits shuffled to their respective positions, watching as they picked up the guns.

"70 metres is insane. How did she manage to do that so easily?"

"She's a trained agent and Avenger man; she's obviously a seasoned player."

She had been handling guns since she was extremely young, the first time she shot a man had to be over twenty years ago; not that she enjoyed divulging that information. She didn't think the new agents would be able to handle that piece of news too well. Steve had shuffled off to the showers earlier and as he trailed in behind her, she couldn't help but catch a whiff of the mint from the soap they kept at home.

"How are they doing?" He asked, towelling his short blonde hair dry.

She sighed, her arms crossed, "You tell me."

Shooting was not something they were gifted at it seems. Some of them hit the board just barely and some went off course entirely. She felt cautious just standing near them.  
"Aim before you shoot and keep still or you'll end up putting that bullet through somebody's head." She warned, looking at one of the kids who was struggling to even keep his arms locked from the recoil force.

"Think they'll ever make it?"

"I don't know," her voice was hardly frosty, but it sounded different from how she normally spoke.

"Natasha..." He said, his sentence trailing off. He looked so much like a kicked puppy that it took all of her willpower not to just kiss him senseless. Before she could reply, someone hollered for her.

"Agent Romanoff!"

She turned to look at Steve, who gave her a little smile, "I'll see you later."

She knew he was hurt, but they both knew where their priorities lie during work. How else was their relationship going to survive?

* * *

Later that afternoon, after training had ended for the day, she made her way back to the shooting range to train herself. It wasn't enough to just save the world; she had to keep her skills on par. The best thing about having Tony on board was the technology he could provide. She entered the simulation room with her two trusty Glocks and a few magazines, tucked in her pocket. Dropping her jacket on the floor, she stretched before switching a few controls on the panel, watching as hologram projections begin to appear. They had guns of their own, guns that didn't fire metal bullets, but instead blunt-ended darts that hurt just as much as a real bullet would. Natasha crossed the floor, aiming and pulling the trigger as she went, ducking as they tried to shoot her. She moved with stealth, graceful like the ballerina she had trained to be and deadly like the name she was given. Her fingers pulled the triggers deftly, improving her skill with every shot. They were holograms but they had the required skills programmed into the system, making them worthy opponents. The key to getting rid of them was a shot right through the head, anywhere else just wouldn't shut them down. She ducked in time to narrowly avoid getting shot, and came up behind the pixelated hologram, pulling the trigger with the gun aimed at the head. The hologram disappeared instantly, leaving one less opponent on the field.

* * *

Sweat coated Natasha's body, leaving her shoulder-length hair damp and sticking to the base of her neck in the most uncomfortable way possible; the curls no longer as defined. As she exited the simulation room, she picked her jacket off the floor and just as she was about to deposit the gun back into the gun rack, she heard footsteps. They were heavy but quiet; she instantly recognized them coming from her soldier.

"Hey," Steve said, appearing by the doorway, hands in his pockets, "We can go home, everyone is out or around for dinner."

She shrugged, "Okay, let's go then."

"Are you still mad about this morning?" He asked, his mouth turned into a frown.

Truthfully, she wasn't, she was hardly mad at him anymore. She couldn't stand being mad at him really.

"No."

She didn't know why that turned out sounding so cold.

"Then what is it? Talk to me, Nat. I know we said we wouldn't bring this up at work, but it's killing me."

He sounded so desperate that her heart ached, but she refused to break the promise she had made. While she was his wife, and she loved him, she was first and foremost her own person, and she would never break the promises she had made.

"We'll talk about this later okay?" She smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand as reassurance. She was stubborn but she wasn't about to let that leave a scar she couldn't fix on their relationship. God knows how many people she had already hurt. He smiled, but she could feel his unease, "I love you, just don't doubt that."

She returned his smile and followed him out the door.

* * *

The basement was quiet as they walked in, the black Audi Quattro outstanding against an empty parking space. It looked like she was leaving her car here tonight. It was already late in the evening, and most of the recruits had gone home for the weekend. Steve sighed quietly as he walked behind Natasha, couldn't she tell that he was just worried about her? She was important to him, so important that he couldn't even begin to fathom what his days would be like without her. Frankly, it hurt _physically_ just to think about it. He took one look at her and finally, he decided that whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining the time he could spend with her. He had spent too long wondering where he fit into this world, this century, this _place_ ; and he found a place he could call home. She was family, and he wasn't about to waste any more time by arguing with her. Natasha was special, and he thanked the Lord every day that he could wake up next to her every morning. He wanted her to believe that.

He picked up his pace and fell into step next to her.

"What's wrong, soldier?"

"Nothing," He said, shaking his head and twining his fingers with hers, "I've just wanted to do this all day."

"I'm sorry for acting the way I did this morning."

"I know."

She was stubborn and she was feisty, but those were the reasons he fell in love with her. She was also honest, kind and caring, but she knew what she wanted, and she wouldn't back down but he could also tell when she was genuinely sorry. The Black Widow had many alibis and identities, but Steve loved Natasha, not who she claimed to be.

"And you know I can't change."

She was afraid to lose her identity, and he wouldn't ever blame her for that. He didn't want her to change.

"I know."

Natasha kept quiet, and he knew she had finally stopped pushing him out. She was never one for many words, actions spoke louder than words; something she liked to say.

"I love you, Steve," she said quietly, "I don't like arguing with you, and I've never been good with expressing what I feel. But whatever this is, whatever we were arguing about; it's not important. The only thing in the end here that matters to me is you."

He pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her temple, resting his chin on the top of her head. She was perfect.

"We have the day off tomorrow." He said, his tone serious.

"It's a Saturday tomorrow."

"Exactly. Let's go on a date."

She placed her hands on his chest, and pulled back to look at him, "Why so sudden?"

"Because I want to spend as much time with you as it is humanly possible."

Natasha swatted him lightly, burying her face against the crook of his neck. It wasn't an easy feat mind you, she still had to tip toe, "Don't say things like that. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I'm stuck with you for life you idiot."

"And I've never been more thankful."

It was funny how things turn out sometimes. Seventy years ago he was standing in a secret World War II bunker planning to take down Hydra bases, and now, he was standing in the basement of the Avengers facility with his wife. It was like life was giving him a second chance when he woke up from the ice. He wanted to appreciate that more.


End file.
